Spare us this day, our daily bread

Suzy’s in the pre-week of the Raw Diet. Meaning, she is cutting back on certain things like meat and processed stuff. The idea is to eat better and lose weight.

I’ve never had a problem with girth; if anything, I shy away from shorts because of my “chicken legs” (as my sister used to call them). I’m heavier now that I’ve ever been, but that’s 157lb. I was a svelte 145 when I got married (in 1999). But I’ve been feeling kinda blah lately, so I thought I would join Suzy’s journey by giving up something, to see what happens. I decided to give up beer and bread.

Beer makes me grouchy. I Love the stuff, but after just one I get a bit sleepy and irritable, which is bad for someone who’s already, well, kinda intense. (One of the few benefits of advancing age is self-awareness). Besides, I prefer wine, especially red. And the indulgence has a rationale; red wine is “good for the heart.” Which is great because even with a tight waistline, my cholesterol is high. A doctor told me at age 22 to stop eating eggs, saying I’d have a heart attack by 40 if I didn’t. I didn’t. And 40 was so last month.

Giving up beer. Easy.

But I’m a bread-aholic. I’m thinking about it Right Now. Because the reason for giving up bread is to reduce wheat intake, and Wheat’s In Everything. No more granola breakfast. No more chewy snack bars or cookies or pita or tuna on whole grain at lunch. No more nacho chips with salsa or kaiser rolls. No more pasta.

Life without bread is hard. I need help. I almost caved tonight when I ordered pepperoni pizza for the boys — it’s Jasper’s birthday tomorrow and avoiding the Duncan Heinz will be a new threshold of discipline.

It’s been three days, and it’s a good thing I’m taking a few days off this week. I needed to sleep this afternoon. The spinach salad with beets at lunch just didn’t do it for me. And yesterday’s experiment with microwaved green beans with salt for breakfast was not repeated today. I need a coach!

And maybe a tailor. I’m also running again. 5k today, the third time in a week. It feels great, but the energy’s got to come from somewhere, and there’s not a lot of excess me to burn. Which makes my wife burn; three days in and I’m down three lb.

Maybe I’ll get my six-pack back. On my gut, anyway.

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